It Is Time

It is time,
Say your good byes,
Close those tired of fighting eyes,
Life is full of surprise.
Memory of young,
Basking in the summer sun,
Body breaks down in an age of old,
The reaper works best with the winter's cold.
We grow then shrink,
One part of us in continuous growth is the heart I think.
It must be big enough for love to release,
Because every family member gets a piece.
When you get in return what you have given,
That makes life worth living.
No volume of money measures up to this,
It is love of your family that makes you rich.
Always in their hearts and on their minds,
Close your eyes it is time.

I wrote this poem for Richard La Porte,
Never knew a rich man to be of wealth or money,
What makes him rich was only measured by the love of his family.

Richard G. La Porte
10/21/1922-12/21/2014